Get well soon
by EndlessHetalia
Summary: Based on a doujinshi. Spain loses his mind, Romano must try and show him what is real and what is not. But with Spain showing no signs of recovery, is it worth hoping any more? PM me if you want to see the doujinshi.
1. Chapter 1

Romano lay on his bed and cried into his pillow. His sobs were dry, no more tears would fall, he had cried too much today and he simply had no more of his tears to give. And yet tremendous sobs of despair and hopelessness still wrecked his body with each gasped breath.

Why did this have to happen to the Spaniard? What had that carefree kind of guy ever done to deserve such a fate? These questions were pushed to the back of Romanos mind as he swam in mostly self-pity. He was the one who felt cheated and betrayed by God. Just as things were finally feeling right between him and the Spaniard, something like this happens.

Romano had watched, _watched _as the Spain he knew slowly slipped away, unable to do a single thing to stop it. The day Romano had decided that he could no longer keep Spain from harming himself or others in the over-emotional deluded state he now lived in, was the worst day of the Italians life. He thought that nothing would be worse than the happy smile on the Spaniards face as they drove off with him. That smile had haunted Romano because he knew that Spain had no idea where he was really being taken. Spain wasn't really attached to reality anyway...

Romanos dry sobs finally stopped and his throat cried instead, begging for moisture. Getting up from the bed he crossed the hall to the bathroom and turned on the sinks tap. Bending his head he drank directly from it and his whole tired body relaxed a little.

He hoped, prayed, and generally begged all powers of the Earth and beyond that Spain would get better some day soon. That they could go back to the way it was before. Lovino had listened to the docter tell him that they didn't know exactly what was wrong and had felt like punching the woman.

Sliding down on to the cold bathroom tiles, Romano left the tap running, trying to drown out the screams that Spain had made that day as they played over and over in his mind. And still, he knew he must go see him again, next week, which was the only time he would get. Because not seeing Spain was almost worse than seeing the way he had become.

* * *

"How has he been?" Romano asked Docter Linn, the woman looking specifically at Spains case.

"Not good I'm afraid, he cries most of the time and screams when he isn't crying, he hasn't slept unless tranquilised and anything he has managed to eat he has mostly thrown right back up." She told him as they walked briskly towards Spains room.

A sour taste entered Romanos mouth. All this over a doll? But of course, Spain hadn't seen it as a doll, the crazy bastard really thought it was a young Romano and thus when the real Romano had ripped the doll to shreds, Spain had seen cold blooded murder.

Romano was glad he couldn't see what the Spaniard saw. He wished however, that he had not lost his temper that day. But how could he not? Whilst Spain had confused a doll for the young Romano, he had been unable to recognise the real Romano even as he sat directly in front of the Spainard. That had driven a cold pain through the Italians heart, a cold pain that had directed itself in to anger.

As they approached Spains room, Romano could hear the man screaming. The screams rose and fell, full of pain and sadness and torture. Romano gulped and brushed away the tears that formed.

"Are you okay? You don't have to do this if you feel you can't..." Docter Linn told the Italian softly.

Romano took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm his shaking limbs. "It doesn't matter if I can or can't. I have to."

Nodding, Docter Linn unlocked the Spaniards door. "You have one hour." She told Romano. "Call if he gets out of hand." Romano nodded, he knew the drill from the first time.

As Romano entered, Spain was not sat on the chair waiting for him as he had been the first time. He was sat on the bed, curled up on his side and howling. When Romano heard the door close behind him, the soft click seemed to alert the Spaniard to anothers presence and he looks up from the pool he made in his arms and stares wide eyes at Romano, sitting up sharply. His eyes had become slightly sunken in to the skin, which had become gaut and pale, his frame merely bones and scarce meat. He looked like he was wasting away in both body and mind and that tore Romanos heart to pieces.

"You! Why have you come back? What more can you take from me?!" Spain yelled at him, his emerald eyes becoming moist with tears that would not fall.

"I..." Romano began.

"What?! You, what?! You want to kill me now too? Is that it? You weren't content with murdering a child?" Spain wiped at those unfallen tears, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed as if he were going to get up but never did. "Did you really hate me talking about him that much?! What did poor sweet little Romano ever do to deserve that? I have nothing now, nothing, I might as well just die right now without Romano!"

Romano snapped again and grabbed the Spaniard by the front of his shirt, watching as those wide eyes stopped crying, as if tranfering his tears to Romanos eyes where they did indeed fall.

"I'm Romano!" The Italian screamed at him. "Me, the only one! I am Romano you stupid bastard, are you really that far gone?!"

"H-help! Help!" Spain began to call.

"Look at me! Look at _me_!" Romano yelled, shaking the Spaniard by the collar and forcing that worn and pale looking face to stare him directly in the eyes. "Can't you see that its me? Can't you see that I'm Romano?!"

"No! You're not Romano! You killed him! You killed Romano!" Spain yelled back as the attending nurses burst in and dragged the Italian out.

"I'm Romano! I'm Romano!"

* * *

Romano sat in his car and repeatedly hit his head against the steering wheel until he could taste blood. He felt like his own identity had been ripped away from him. He hated the way he had made Spain cry both times he had visited. Being around the man he loved now only caused the other pain and the intense guilt Romano felt made him want to go just as insane.

He felt as though someone had reached in through his mouth and was kneading his guts in the way he would knead pizza dough. Romano knew that he couldn't go on like this, that he should just move on, that Spain was a lost cause. But he couldn't, he loved Spain with his entire being, heart, body and soul and he would always love him nomatter what happened.

Romano turned the key in the ignition and dried his eyes, looking back at the hospital and daring to believe that he saw Spain in one of the windows, staring down at him. Romano sniffed and turned his eyes back to the windscreen.

With a heavy heart Romano muttered, "Get well soon."

* * *

Spain watched the car pull away, pressing his palm against the cold glass longingly as he moaned, "Romano..."


	2. Chapter 2

"Fratellone, are you crying?"

Romano looked up at the worried face of his younger brother peering down at him as he sat huddled on the floor of his bedroom. His eyes were red and puffy from tears and sore to the touch as he hurriedly wiped any stray tears away. Even though the two were twins, it had always been a thing between them to call Romano the older brother.

"I'm fine..." Romano muttered which was an absolute lie. Veneciano sat down next to his brother, not altering his worried and sympathetic look. After a few stubborn moments of silence Romano reluctantly relives the events of the day to tell his brother what happened.

"Ve...I know how you feel..." Veneciano states, just trying to seem comforting and not cry in pity for Romano as he usually did.

"You have no idea how I feel! To have your identity removed from you by the someone you care for so much, to be accused of murdering your younger self...i-its crazy!" Romano growls, he had no better words, so full of confusion that he was about the whole twisted situation.

Veneciano tilted his head and laid it on his brothers shoulder, and for once Romano didn't complain and seek to remove it. "Hay fratellone, I have an idea. Spain thinks there was a little you right? Why don't you just dress up and pretend to be little you again?"

"Thats the stupidest idea I've ever-" Romano stops. Was it stupid? Would he even be allowed back in after what he had done today? Anything was worth a try. He just wanted Spain to be well again. To be able to be weak in the Spaniards strong arms if he so chose to be and not worry anymore.

* * *

"Listen to me, you have to let me in!" Romano fumes at the security guard who was told to keep the Italian out. Romano looked around, trying not to get spotted in the outfit he was wearing. As a kid it had perhaps suited him, but now it just made him feel stupid and look odd.

"You can't come in after hurting the patients, be lucky you weren't jailed!" The security guard glared, a vein throbbing on his temple.

"But I think I can help him! You have to give me a chance, damn it you jackass can't you see I'm being serious?!" Romano turned his face away, tears once more present. How much had he cried since the Spaniard lost his mind? Too much. He could fill a bath with his tears, probably more at the rate things were going.

The guard wouldn't budge, it was hopeless. Spain...the Italian thought of him and sighed, a sigh that reached deep down in to him and came out as a testiment to all his weariness and lack of hope. It probably wouldn't have worked anyway. Who was he kidding? Spain was never getting better.

"Excuse me!" A female voice chimed from behind the security guard. The man moves aside and Doctor Linn comes in to view, her messy ginger hair pulled back in a ponytail that only just contained it. She raised an eyebrow at Romanos outfit and he scowled at her through his blush.

"I heard about what you were trying to do and-" She began.

"Its stupid right? Forget I said anything." Romano turned slightly, preparing to leave. Doctor Linn placed her hand on his shoulder.

"No, I think it could work. I said before that he needed no distractions, but if we can re-establish who you are in his mind, we can pretty soon do without the costume. The sooner he realizes what decade this is, the sooner his delusions can be tackled. Of course facing the fact that what he thinks his wrong could cause him some anxiety but..." Doctor Linn coughed and blushed a little, aware that she had started to rant. "Right this way."

Romano childishly stuck his tongue out at the guard as they passed in to the building. Spain wasn't screaming as they approached his room today, but still a feeling of great depression settled upon the Italian.

"Ready?" Doctor Linn said, she would accompany him this time. This was for two reasons, to make sure that Romano wouldn't attack Spain again and to observe what happened.

Romano coughed and practiced talking in a more child-like voice. This wasn't easy with Romanos rather rough tones but he managed it. The Italians heart pounded in his chest as they entered, Spain was facing the wall this time, hugging a pillow to his face.

Doctor Linn took a seat silently. Romano licked his lips and in his child voice calls. "Spain..." For a moment the Spaniard does not recognise that there had been any noise in the room. "Spain!"

This time the other man snapped his head up and turned it slowly. Those sad green eyes widened suddenly and he swung his whole body to face Romano, ignoring the doctors presence and looking Romano up and down. The simple action made Romano feel very hot under the collar.

"R-romano...you're okay..." Spain got up numbly, walking the few steps from the bed to Romano in a slow plodding fashion before wrapping his shaking arms around Romano and hugging him tight. "Romano, oh my precious little tesoro, I'm so happy you're allright!"

Romanos face crinkled against Spains shoulder as he tried not to cry. He couldn't help but hug back, as hard as he dared with Spain being so skinny and frail now. "I'm happy too..." Spain mutters.


	3. Chapter 3

Having Spain pet and hold him like when he was a child soothed Romanos acheing heart. Though he knew that the affection shown wasn't truly for him as he was now, it was for him in some young version and he really didn't care. As long as he could feel Spains warm body against his, have the man smile at him and coo sweet nothings once more, Romano allowed himself to be happy.

"I'm sorry but times up." Doctor Linn said, standing up. Spain is the first to raise his head, looking confused and wide-eyed . Romano slowly moved his face from being buried in Spains chest as much as was able to stare at her. The room seemed so much brighter after having his face like that.

"What do you mean?" Spain asked, his grip becoming tighter around Romano so that the Italian cringed.

"I have to take Romano to his own room now." Doctor Linn told the Spaniard in a soft non-threatening voice, slowly approaching him. That was a lie of course, because of the dangerous nature of some of the patients Romano was not allowed to stay in the place itself, but it was the easiest thing to say to the insane Spaniard.

"He can stay with me, we've shared a bed together before, it'll be fine!" Spains voice sounded desperate, he didn't want to lose Romano again.

Romano cringed harder, the grip around him crushingly tight but still he said nothing. The pain in his heart was returning again at the thought of leaving Spain all alone, and if Romano had to be taken away by force then Spain would go in to hysterics again.

"Let go of me Spain." Romano grunted, his child voice breaking a little on the last word as he struggled to keep it going. This distracted Spain who beamed at him.

"Romano~ Is your voice breaking~? You're growing up so fast, Boss is so happy." Spain gives Romano an eskimo kiss causing the Italian to blush. At least now he didn't have to strictly damage his throat with the baby voice.

"Seriously, let go, I want my own room!" Romano grumbled, wriggling about, trying to act as he did as a child though he remembered little of his childhood.

Spain nodded and let go, allowing Doctor Linn to take his hand as if Romano really were a child. "You'll bring him back, right?"

Doctor Linn nodded. "He'll be back tomorrow, until then you should sleep. A nurse will bring you supper."

Spain yawned and laid down, looking happy for one of the only times Romano had seen since Spain was sent here. "Make sure to give Romano supper too, he likes tomatoes."

Doctor Linn nodded and walked Romano out of the room, casually locking the Spaniard in once they were out. Romano didn't know what to feel at the moment. They had succeeded in fooling Spain in to thinking that the adult Romano was the child one, but was that really a good thing? Spain wasn't in a sound mind and just playing up to his delusions probably wasn't helping him get well anytime soon. Still, it had felt so good to be close to him again.

Doctor Linn at least seemed pleased. "That went great, keep up with the voice break thing, if we can convince him you grew up we can then start on making him understand that you were never a child at this point in time at all. After all, just increasing the delusion won't be good for him, especcially with his mind set back a few decades."

Romano nodded, pretending that he understood. "My fratello will be waiting to pick me up." He said morbidly in his real voice.

"Oh of course, go ahead."

Romano turned and walked away from the room containing his lover like a rat trapped in a cage. He signed out and entered the parking lot where his brothers car was already waiting for him. Getting in the backseat Romano awkwardly started to take off the dress.

"How did it go?" Veneciano asked a little timidly, though he still smiled in an encouraging kind of way.

"Fine." Romano grunted, putting on some pants and a shirt, before stuffing the dress and cap in the bag which previously held the clothes he now wore. Getting in the passanger seat he crossed his arms, only just bothering to put on a seatbelt.

Veneciano shut up, knowing he'll get nothing more from his brother and indeed their car ride home is silent. Once in the house Romano collapsed on the sofa, his arms splayed over the back. "Its so hard to see him getting better anytime soon." He says, prompting Veneciano to quickly come and sit beside him. "He seemed so happy to see me today but it wasn't really me he was seeing, well it was, but not the real me. Somehow that hurts more than him not knowing me at all."

"Well I'm happy hes getting the right care." Veneciano smiled, taking his brothers hand in his and getting as close as he dared, knowing that Romano must really be upset since he hadn't slapped the younger twin for such actions.

"Si, I guess thats a positive." Romano sat up a little, snatching his hand away and scowling lightly at the closeness of his brother. He could tell Veneciano was getting ready to hug him and so got ready to headbutt the other.

"There is another positive." Veneciano blushed a little.

"What?"

"I get to spend more time with you and now you two aren't really together, theres something I feel confident about doing." Veneciano leaned in and before Romano knew what was going on, his younger brothers lips were pressed firmly against his.


	4. Chapter 4

Romano was so shocked that for a moment his brain couldn't even register what was going on. His brother...his little brother was kissing him! And not in the sweet on the cheek brotherly way either, this idiot was really going at it with passion, his lips pleaded to be caressed back.

Romano's eyes fell shut, it had been so long since he was kissed that he actually started to kiss back, imagining that it is Spain and not his brother. That was all before a sense of moral outrage set in and the older of the two pushed Veneciano off of him so hard that the younger was almost propelled off of the sofa.

"What the fuck is wrong with you Veneciano?! Have you gone crazy too?!" Romano fumed in Italian, standing up and glaring down at his brother. "We're siblings for Gods sake and whats more I'm..." It didn't much seem like it anymore, there not being much of a relationship there but since they had never actually broken up... "...I'm dating Spain."

"I know..." Veneciano replied in their native tongue. "You just looked so upset, I wanted to make you happy again."

"By kissing me?!"

"I didn't know what else to do." Veneciano looked down at his feet pathetically, regretting his decision so much that he was crying yet again.

"Pervert, do you get off to incest or something?!" Romano continued to yell, before storming off, cursing each and everything about his little brother, until he reached his room where he slammed the door both open and shut before throwing himself down on the bed.

For a moment he just laid there before noticing that the fabric under his face isn't his covers. Getting up on his knees he sighs when he sees why, picking up the shirt he had been laying on and pressing it to his face before plopping back down again. It still smelt just like Spain. Since the Spaniard no longer needed his clothing, it had all been shipped here to Romano. Feeling sad and pathetic as he cried, Romano had searched through all Spain's clothes until he found something that smelt of him still. Something Romano could keep close to him, or perhaps put over a pillow, and use to pretend that Spain was still here by his side.

There truly wasn't a moment he didn't regret his decision to put Spain away, but it was for the Spaniards own good. Who knows what could have happened if he hadn't been receiving real care? It was hard to imagine but the way Spain was now was a lot better than he had been when Romano had had him taken away. What could have caused Spain to get like that? If the doctors couldn't see what then Romano surely had no hope of figuring it out. To him everything had seemed fine.

"Romano..."

"Go away!" Romano threw a pillow at Veneciano who had come to apologize once more, it didn't hit him as for once he was smart enough to close the door as a sheild. Romano laid back down with that shirt that held a scent so uniquely Spain and listened to the slow sad footsteps of his brother retreating.

It was true that the older twin had become very lonely in the absence of his lover, but he wasn't that desperate for contact...yet.

* * *

In his lonely white room Spain woke up, he had been dreaming, dreaming about his Romano, how that monster of a man had ripped the child to shreds with his bare hands. Sitting up he pressed the balls of his hands to his eyes to try and stop the tears. Thank God the doctors had been so good as to bring him back to life, and now he was more talkative again, which made Spain very happy.

A hot flash of pain erupts in the corner of his skull, momentarily blinding him. "Que...?" He mutters, not sure if the pain was real or imagined it had come and gone so quickly. As if determined to torment him his memories of that day start to filter back through. But wait...that isn't Romano in his lap, its just a doll...just a doll being ripped to shreds by...by the real grown up Romano.

Spain holds his head in confusion, gritting his teeth hard and grabbing handfulls of his own hair. He didn't know what was real and what was fake any more, it made him want to scream again so he did. He screamed just as loud as he wanted, hitting his head against the wall that his bed was pressed against until he felt the hot wet ooze of blood and laid back down.

Where ever his Romano was, Spain hoped he was okay and that the Italian was thinking of him with a smile.


	5. Chapter 5

"Its nice to see you again." Doctor Linn smiled at the dress-clad Romano as they made their way to Spain's room. She didn't want to mention the episode that the Spaniard had last night for fear of upsetting Romano. Besides, Spain seemed fine now. And Doctor Linn was far too excited about this kind of treatment, this feeding of a fantasy to slowly ween it away, to want to disrupt it.

As soon as he was let in Romano, dressed as Chibiromano, walked in to the open-armed embrace of Spain who made the Italian scowl by nuzzling his cheeks. "Romano~ I convinced the nice doctor lady to let us have some paper and crayons, I thought maybe we could colour together si?"

Romano turned his head to see said items on a table way too low for them both but what would have been right for Romano if he really was a child. God this guy really was far gone. "Hay, could you leave us for a while?" Romano asked in his small voice, fighting the urge to cough afterwords as the pressure of speaking that way made his throat feel like it was burning.

Doctor Linn bit her lip and then nodded, leaving. Romano would have to give a detalied report afterwards. Turning back to the man who had once made love to him in the shower Romano crouches down at the little table, observing how happy Spain was to get on his knees and start mindlessly drawing. Romano stared at his paper, a green crayon in his hand.

"Whats the matter Romano? Don't know what to draw?" Spain smiles. "Hear, let me get you started." He reached out and cupped the Italians hand in his own, helping him to draw a meadow of spiky grass. Romanos heart pounded in his chest from this contact and his face went red. As if Spain couldn't tell from touching his hand that he wasn't a child. Did he honestly think that he was holding a small hand?

Once the 'help' was done Romano chose a yellow crayon and started drawing a sun. He had never been good at drawing so whatever he did really did look juvenile. Spain on the other hand seemed to have little to no problem drawing a child Romano and himself side by side.

"You know, I had a weird dream last night." Spain smiled, looking over at Romano's wonky house as he coloured in his own eyes on the sheet.

"Si?" Romano squeaks, tongue sticking out as he tried to draw a perfect little cat on the roof of his house. This really did make him feel just like a kid again and in a way that was nice, to escape the pressures of adulthood and just be a child with Spain once more.

"Si. I dreamt you were all grown up and that I thought a doll was a baby you." Spain smiled. His smile drops at the sound of a snap and he looked up to see that Romano had pressed down so far with the orange crayon that the tip had snapped, spraying the page with little splinters of colour. "Romano...?"

"What if it wasn't a dream?" Romano whispered, face tilted down so that his cap cast a shadow over it.

"Que? Don't be silly Romano, of course it was a dream you're right here aren't you?" Spain chuckled, meaning that he still saw the child Romano in the adults place.

"But what if? What if I really was all grown up?" Romano looked up. Spain was starting to see the truth, maybe whatever had caused such delusions was finally starting to clear.

"...oh I see." Spain smiled. "Are you saying this because you think I won't love you as much when you grow up?"

"What? No of course not!" Romano stared, placing the broken crayon down beside the others.

"Good, because you know I'll always love you Romano. I'll surely miss having you this little, its kind of nice to have someone cute like you depending on me. It gives me a real sense of worth, but as long as you grow up thinking I'm a cool guy I won't mind." Spain smiled and then showed off his picture. Romano smiled at the little stick figure couple and Spain grins wider.

Romano finds himself distracted. Was this why Spain had gone insane? Because he was hungering for a time when he felt more needed and that just happened to be the time in which Romano was a child, a developing country that needed his help even if Romano never admitted it? Anything was possible.

"So if I was grown up right now you wouldn't mind?" Romano asked, staring him dead in the face.

Spain shook his head of chocolate coloured curls. "Of course not...are you asking me this because you started getting stuff in your undies when you wake in the morning?"

"What...?" Romano stared, not quite grasping what the other man was talking about. As soon as he got it his cheeks flushed red yet again. "I am not having wet dreams!"

Spain chuckled and reached over to rustle Romanos hair, making the cap go all askew. This guy...he could come up with a hundred and one possible explanations for Romano asking that question and would never be anywhere near the obvious truth.

"It would be better if you saw me as a grown up." Romanos voice cracked a little and he coughed.

"It would?" Spain smiled, leaning in a little to get a better look at Romanos own drawing.

"Yes, it would." Before Romano could control himself he had reached forward and planted his lips on to Spains. They were just as Romano remembered them, soft, just moist enough and meltingly hot. He only got away with the kiss as long as ten seconds, after which Spain recovered from his shock and pulled away.

"Romano!" Spain stared at him. "I...didn't know you felt that way about Boss, but you know that you can't do those things right? It isn't allowed when you are so little. Ha, At least now I understand what you meant by wanting to be grown up, but you can't do that again. Okay Romano?" His words are soft and kind as he caressed Romanos hand with his own. Those words made Romano want to cry and scream and hit this stupid bastard all in one go. But he didn't, Romano just nodded his head and went along with it.

–

Later that night as Spain lay on his bed smiling happily, he turned his head to look at the pictures they had drawn. He had put them on the wall and the room didn't seem even half as dull now they were there.

Spain felt better about letting Romano leave, now he knew for sure the doctor would bring the child back to him each day. Thinking about that made Spain recall how Romano had kissed him. Those lips...they had felt so large, so adult. Not at all like the little soft lips a child was supposed to have. Spain raised his hand to his lips, still feeling the Italians own on there. For those few seconds they had kissed, Spain could swear he had seen Romano sitting there fully grown, in his child clothing.

But that was just his mind playing tricks in surprise after the conversation they had just had...right?


	6. Chapter 6

A few weeks passed in the same manner, Romano would visit Spain, dressed as a child and they would do the kind of activites they used to when Romano really was a child. Sometimes Spain seemed not at all phased by it all, he went along happily believing that Romano was a child and smiled in the carefree manner that defined him even as Romano looked down with sad eyes.

But sometimes...sometimes Spain would tell Romano all these weird thoughts he had been getting, about Romano being grown up and everything would turn silent and sour. The slow tide of memory was pulling in, washing away the black beaches of delusion. But unfortunately that tide always seemed to receed before the problem was washed away for good.

But what did Romano really expect? He didn't expect that even as a month, two, three passed by that Spain would one day be fully cured and they could go home and be happy like this awful time in their lives was just a nightmare that needed to be forgotton.

As Romano was once again let in to Spains room alone, the whole process feeling too familiar to be embaressing anymore, he didn't see anything laid our for activities like there usually was. Instead Spain walked over to him from the corner of the room he had been waiting in, he moved slowly, face looking far too serious and dark for the Spaniard.

Romano couldn't help but feel just a little scared, his heart pounding quickly as Spain stopped just a foot away from him. "Take off that costume Romano, I know you're not a little kid anymore and you don't have to pretend."

Having only just noticed he was holding his breath, Romano let it out and his lungs gratefully got a taste of fresh oxygen. "You know...?"

"Si. Its okay, didn't I tell you I wouldn't mind if you grew up? I always knew a country like you could grow fast. I just kind of wish you'd stayed young a bit more. But you're still mine right?" Spains happy look returned as Romano took off the dress and cap, a normal t-shirt and shorts underneath.

So Spain had managed to work out in his confused mind that Romano was no longer a child, unfortunately he was still stuck in some alternative time period that did not correspond with reality. Spain was ill, but getting better and that filled Romano with hope he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Excuse me a moment." Romano told the Spaniard, making a confused look appear as Romano knocked on the door and had the nurse that waited for him get Doctor Linn. The Italian had an idea, but he needed the doctors say so if he were to be able to do it.

–

"You want to do what?" Doctor Linn stared at him, she had listened to all that the Italian had to say, glad that the therapy and sessions with Romano seemed to be having some positive effect.

"I want to take him home with me, show him that the world has truly progressed much further than he thinks." Romano repeated, starting to get irritated. It was hard for him to stop himself grabbing her by the collar and yelling 'Listen here you dumb bitch...'

"I can't allow that. We've already established that Spains need for you to be dependant on him again so he feels needed is the reason his mind became like this, if he sees that you're independent and have been for some time, who knows what might happen? We can't trust that he won't lash out at you, or hurt himself, or even run away from you." Doctor Linn told him. She did feel sorry for Romano, she felt sorry for all of the relatives and partners of her patients. But that didn't mean she was going to discharge Spain when she felt that it was too dangerous to do so.

"Please just give me a chance!" Romano barked at her. "Don't be such a heartless bitch, I can do this, I can make him better. You can give me sedatives for him if he goes weird right? I need to be able to help him and you aren't being useful holding back what could be the key to his recovery."

Ignoring that she was sworn at by the often irritable Italian, Doctor Linn sighed. "I'll have to talk to my superiors about this one. Usually if a patient is fit to go there isn't a problem...but like I said, in no way is he completely cured and ready to go."

"Just give me a chance. I can do this." Romano repeated, holding the dress and cap curled up in his arms.

"I'll have your answer by next week. In the mean time, why don't you spend time with him as always?" Doctor Linn offered a smile that was not returned as Romano left her office and had a nurse escort him back to Spain.

This time next week Romano planned to take the Spaniard home whether Doctor Linn said so or not. He was tired of sleeping alone, of only seeing Spains lovely face inside these prison like walls. He wanted a normal relationship again. He wanted his Spain back and woe betide anyone and anything that tried to stop him.


	7. Chapter 7

After a week of arguing and fighting for his right to take Spain home it was eventually decided that the Spaniard had improved enough to be let home. "You'll need to bring him back in next month, or sooner if he gets worse. Remember we're really twisting the rules here. We're not supposed to let patients who aren't fully cured out." Doctor Linn said with a small smile. The determination in this Italians heart warmed her own and she had secretly been pulling strings for Romano.

Doctor Linn, like Romano, saw the improvements in the Spaniard and no longer thought he was a threat to himself or others. Even if the head doctor thought otherwise he was always far too stuck up, the classic 'by the rules' kind of guy.

Spain stepped outside, and shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun. He was dressed in his own clothes once more and fiddled with them, suddenly uncomfortable. "Oi, Spain. This way."

The Spaniard looked down as Romano called him to a car that looked more advanced then Spain remembered them ever being. Having slowly been educated in the modern way of things he still stood unsure at the door of the hospital. Though his usual smile was still in place there were etchings of uncertainty. "Romano..."

"It's fine, come on." Romano returned and reached out to take Spain's hand and pull him forward. It was easy to get him to move and sit him in the car, but that masked fear behind the green eyes made Romano suddenly unsure that his idea was a correct one. Setting off for his home Romano wondered if he was being selfish. It wasn't the first time that he had this thought but none the less it came back. What if Spain really wasn't ready to face the outside world and taking him out of the place he could receive the right care was doing him more harm than good?

Spain kept his eyes glued to the window, watching the world go by with a smile on his face. It had been so very long since he was outside that everything seemed all that more bright and wonderful. His earlier fear seemed to evaporate and he reached out to take Romano's hand.

"Not whilst I'm driving, you idiot!" Romano scolded very lightly as he pushed that hand away. It didn't dent the Spaniards spirit which made Romano feel very glad. Was this a sign he was going back to normal once more?

Pulling in to the driveway backwards, Romano was amused when Spain declared. "Hay, I think I know this place!"

"Of course you do, its my house, you've been here tons of times." The Italian shut off the car engine and pocketed his keys, getting out of the car. It took Spain a few seconds to understand he had to get out too it seemed, and when he did he just stood there and stared at the house.

"Come on..." Romano said wearily, taking a gentle hold of the others arm and encouraging him forwards towards the house.

"You were living here all on your own Romano? It must have been so scary before you grew up." Spain gave the Italian an apologetic look as if it were his fault that Romano had to be so alone.

"Don't be silly, Veneciano lives with me." Romano fished out his house keys and opened the door.

"Eh? Did Austria free him?" Spain asked, confused as the last he remembered the younger Italian nation lived with the Austrian one.

"Something like that." Romano told him, walking in to the house first. Here Spain paused just as he did on the doorstep on the hospital. "Come on, nothings going to hurt you in here." He didn't know what else to say. Was Spain heistant because he thought he could get hurt or because of some other fear?

Just as the Italian was about to grab Spain and make him come in, the Spaniard walked in of his own accord and looked around as Romano closed and locked the door behind him. The place was silent, Romano having told his brother to leave for Spain's return as not to startle him with so much change all at once, but it was also bare looking. The reason for this was that the photos which usually hanged on the walls or sat on the mantel piece in the living room were gone. At least the ones which contained actual photos, paintings were still up.

Romano had decided that showing Spain the pictures of themselves in situations and places that he wouldn't remember would best be left till later. As for the pictures of Veneciano and that potato eater...Romano had never liked those anyway. What better oppurtunity to take them down?

"You'll live here with me for a while, until you get better." Romano took Spains hand in his own and gives it a squeeze so those emerald eyes return to the Italian's face instead of wandering around the place.

"Que? Am I sick?" Spain questioned, his eyes a little wide as he took everything in. Romano smiled saddly and nodded.

"Si, you're sick. But I'll make you well again soon."


	8. Chapter 8

Once upon a time Romano had been a child, taken in to Spain's home. Spain had taken his hand no matter how he had protested and shown him around. Like it or not the little Italian had been somewhat impressed by the things he saw in the Spaniards house. His hazel eyes that sometimes seemed to be more of an olive colour had widen a little and though he had detested the dress and the man who told the young Italian to call him 'boss' he couldn't help but be curious about his new living area.

And ironically, the tables had somewhat turned. For now it was Romano who took Spain by the hand and led him around the Italian's own home. Spain whose green eyes widened and sparkled like casting dew drops on to fresh summer grass.

"And this is where you'll sleep." Romano showed the Spaniard to his guest bedroom and let him have a good look around. Spain stood there in the middle of the room, smiling wide and yet somewhat unsure of himself until he seemed to gather some childish energy and flopped down on the bed.

"Mm~ Comfy!" Spain smiled happily up at the Italian. "Can I take a siesta now?"

"Do whatever you want, I'm not the boss of you." Romano folded his arms with a small scowl.

"Okay~ buenas noches Romano~!" Spain yawned and snuggled down in to the peach coloured duvet and matching pillow.

The Italian stayed there for a moment before saying, "You can go anywhere in the house, just not outside on your own or in to my bedroom."

"I thought you said you aren't my boss?" Spain opened an eye just to wink and grin. Romano went red with slight anger.

"But you're still my guest and those are the rules. Goodnight!" He slammed the door behind him as he left. Still the same old Spain underneath all the weird and crazy after all.

Romano woke Spain up for paella a few hours later, knowing it was the Spaniards favourite dish. Spain beamed in delight. "Paella~ Oh Romano you shouldn't have." He tucked in as soon as he sat at the little counter top table.

"I know I shouldn't have." Romano growled. He'd never made the dish before, having always refused most things Spanish in to his being. But the internet had assured him it was easy. The internet lied as far as Romano was concerned, then again the Southern Italian had never been very good at anything his whole life. Yet now he couldn't adopt his 'I can't do it so I won't even try' attitude because Spain needed him and personally Romano didn't trust the guy around a lit cooker.

Even now as Romano watched the Spaniard eat there was something unfocused about his eyes, as if he wasn't really there. Just going through the motions of eating without knowing he was doing it or even tasting the food.

"Spain?"

"Uh, si?"

"Is it good?"

"Si, well done."

Romano stared at his food, personally he thought it tasted like shit and he wouldn't try to make this ever again. So either Spain had lost his taste buds like England and America or he was lying.

Either way the Spaniard finished and even had seconds whilst all Romano did was dump his in the bin. The Italian would have liked to have said that being with Spain again in a setting so much more comfortable than the room in the mental hospital was nice but the fact that Spain's illness was still there made everything unsettling. Romano felt that if he didn't keep a close eye on Spain then the Spaniard would start to slip away from him again.

As Romano dumped the rest of the failed paella in the bin his mind cast back to the day before he had decided to send Spain to that hospital, the event that had decided that fate was the only option.

* * *

It was the eve of their anniversary, and Romano had only just entered the bathroom and taken out his manhood for a well deserved long piss when he heard it. Spain, screaming and the sound of things being knocked to the floor in the kitchen.

"Shit." Romano looked down at the steady stream already coming out of him, he couldn't stop now and the noises were only getting worse. "Come on, come on…" The Italian urged.

In the kitchen Romano could hear Spain shouting, but the words were all in Spanish and he couldn't understand. Finally done Romano tucks himself in and runs downstairs. "Spain! Spain what is it?!" He yelled, wondering if someone had broken in and attacked.

Romano stopped at the doorway to the kitchen, it looked like a bomb had hit it. Stepping over the pieces of what had been a chair and slipping on some of the cutlery that had been spewed all over the floor from the drawer ripped from its socket, Romano found Spain huddled in the corner.

The Spaniard was covered in flour and an assortment of other things Romano didn't stop to name at that moment. Spain was still shaking and screaming but Romano couldn't see what the problem was, there was no one here but the two of them.

"Spain?"

"Get away!" Spain lashed out with a knife the other hadn't even seen in his possession. It was the knife they usually used to cut up meat and would probably cause the Italian a serious wound.

"Spain, its me, its Romano." The Italian took a good step back, just in case the Spaniard lashed out again.

"No!" Spain yelled swiping the knife through the air. "They took him! They took Romano! They took him away and I couldn't stop them!"

"Spain…Spain its okay, it really is me, it is Romano." And then the Italian did the only thing he could do, as the swiping knife fell still he pushed it out of the way by lightly pressing on its side. Spain dropped it, just missing his own toe but that was enough.

Romano cupped one dirty cheek and rubbed a circle in to the flour. "It's me, I'm here, no one has me idiot, I'm right here."

Spain's terrified expression gradually softened. "Romano…" He started to move in for a hug but Romano pushed him back a little.

"No hugs for a messy Spain."

"Oh uh si, lo siento." Spain got up, smiled like nothing bad had happened and trailed his mess upstairs to shower. Leaning against the wall Romano took some deep breathes and removed a small card from his pocket. That was so close, Spain could have stabbed him and not cared less about it. Taking his mobile phone from the other pocket Romano dialled the number of the hospital.

* * *

Back in the present day Romano hoped he would never have to make that call ever again. Still the atmosphere was uneasy. Until he knew that Spain was completely healthy, Romano wouldn't let his guard down around the Spaniard. That was why they couldn't sleep in the same bed yet, Romano just didn't trust Spain yet, even with all they had been through, with all the love he felt for the other. Because of the love he felt, the pain of not being able to trust Spain no matter how he wanted to cut deeper in to the Italian's heart than the knife ever could have.


	9. Chapter 9

The next week passed in a slow and repetitive monotony for Romano. Each morning he would get up, make breakfast for the two of them, wake Spain, eat breakfast, keep an eye on the Spaniard whilst trying to jog his memory with stories, dinner, tea, bed. Around and around the cycle went and Spain would listen to the stories Romano told of their lives as if they were just that, stories, fiction.

More than once Romano had snapped and thrown something across the room in his frustration just to stop himself hitting the Spaniard. He had to remind himself that physical force was not the answer to his problem.

It was just so hard though, retelling all your memories to someone who shared them with you just to see them look blankly back at you. It made the memory itself feel less real. On the Sunday night of that week Romano lay curled in bed with the sinking feeling that perhaps his memories were the ones that were wrong. He knew this was impossible but somehow having no one else to justify what had happened made the Italian feel like he was the crazy one. With a grunt Romano sat up and started to pound the pillow with his fists until his feelings were vented out and he could sleep again.

* * *

In the morning Romano decided that since Spain had appeared fine (the definition of which in this case was that he was simply not doing anything that might harm him) he would get out of this house with its choking unsettling atmosphere and go for a walk by himself. The Spaniard seemed fine with this, said he'd read or watch TV until Romano got back. With one last backwards look the Italian set off down the pathway with no real idea where he wanted to go. /I just want to get away/ Romano thought to himself. /Away from the place where my own lover is stuck back in time and doesn't even remember that we're in a relationship/. A plethora of curses and negative names hissed from the Italian's lips as he kicked a pebble along the flagstones until a miss timed hit set it off the path and in to the road.

Watching where the stone had gone Romano felt a kind of sickness come to his stomach when he saw a couple hand in hand, laughing and just generally enjoying their lives together. Though it was petty Romano almost wished something bad would happen to them, if he couldn't have a happy relationship than why should they? What made them so special?

Romano was not one to just accept that sometimes bad things happen to good people and instead brooded on how bad things always happened to him and how the world seemed to want him to be miserable all his life. The only good thing that had come out of this week was that Romano had probably done more work for Spain that week than he had ever done in his whole time as the Spaniard's henchman.

Suddenly the sound of sirens blared in Romano's ears and he spotted a fire engine roaring down the street in the opposite direction to which he was walking. A paranoid panic set in, he was sure that Spain had somehow set the place aflame and ran back as fast as his legs could carry him. Being Italian that was quite fast and a painful kind of relief settled over him when he saw that the house was intact and not on fire.

Letting himself in he takes off his shoes and pauses. The house was eerily quiet. "Spain?" No answer. Taking a few more steps in to his house Romano's ears picked up the sound of someone crying gently. "Spain…?"

Romano followed the sound upstairs. Why would Spain be crying? The Italian's heart began to beat a little faster when he saw the door to his own bedroom wide open. He had told Spain not to go in there but it was too late to scold him now. Entering the room Romano saw just what he dreaded he would see.

Spain was sat with his back to the door and thus Romano, in his lap and spread around him a little are all the pictures that Romano took from the rest of the house and stashed in here. Pictures of memories that Romano had tried in vain to describe. Pictures of Spain and Romano as they had been before all this had happened. "Spain?" Romano placed his hand on the Spaniard's shoulder and Spain jumped a little before turning his teary face towards Romano. The Italian is surprised to see a smile on Spain's face, but is more surprised by the Spaniard's words.

"Romano…I remember."


	10. Chapter 10

Romano almost didn't believe the words he'd just heard. His mind seemed to replay what was just said in slow motion, so that it finally sank in. And yet he was weary. How much was remembered? It seemed too lucky to have some pictures spark all his memory back.

Spain wiped his teary eyes and pulled Romano down by his hands, hugging him tightly. "I remember how you grew up, and left me. I was so sad that day Romano. Having you around when you were little, it gave me such a sense of purpose. You were my first henchmen you know?" He pulled back a little and continued his story. "I may not have liked you very much at first-"

"Gee thanks."

"-but you grew on me because I knew that you needed me. I guess being your friend was just as good but do you remember that day we had a fight? You told me you didn't need me any more, that I was a waste of space..."

Romano blushed at the memory, he hadn't meant it, he just wanted to hurt Spain.

"Well that got me thinking. My economy is terrible at the moment, mi amigos are all busy with their lovers and I...I had no one. So I started to pretend that you were a child again. Then when I bought that doll at the car boot sale...I don't know, it became you slowly and surely. Sometimes I was able to see it as just a doll and other times I couldn't make the image of you disappear from it. And I liked that doll because it would never grow up. It would always need me." Spain curled up, his head rested on his knees. "It's my own fault. I should have told you that I was getting depressed over my own feeling of worthlessness and not locked myself in a fantasy world. Even now there are big patches missing in my memories. But oh Romano, I'm so sorry I put you through this."

"You idiot." Romano slapped the Spaniard, trying to knock some sense in to him. Spain looked up, surprised, too surprised to react to the strike. "I'll always need you, don't you see? All the nights I was alone, all the nights I was caring for you, all I wanted was you to get well soon so I could have you hold me again. Just like you always have. Don't ever do something stupid like think I don't need you, like nobody needs you, ever ever again. Because if you do I'll make you so sorry." He crossed his arms and pouted.

Spain smiled and uncurled, laughing he pinched Romano's cheeks (which earned him another slap to his hand) before pulling the Italian in for another hug. "Lo siento Romano. I'll remember. Te amo, tesoro."

All the tension, the stress and the worry, it seemed to melt away from Romano's bones. The Italian felt like a great weight had been lifted from his heart and his happiness knew no bounds and he hugged Spain as tightly as his strength would allow. "You bastard, ti amo."

A few weeks later, Spain was still going it for therapy sessions. As his memory improved he was able to re-account tales of his own depression and his plunge in to a world of fantasy. The place he was comfortable and happy, safe from the pain of reality.

Feliciano returned to the house and was so delighted by the Spaniard's recovery that he made them a feast of all the food he could make with the contents of the cupboards and fridge. A lot of it improvised and yet all tasting great. They ate until they were stuffed and fell asleep around the tv set.

On Spain and Romano's anniversay, the one that they hadn't before been able to celebrate due to Spain's onset of delusions, the couple were walking through arches lined with lights. They had just had a fantastic meal and Romano was patting his full stomach in content.

Only a few yards from the car, Spain stopped Romano and kissed him. "Hay idiot, people might see!" Romano blushed, looking around though there was no one at all near them.

Spain just chuckled and then rubbed the back of his head. "I don't have the money to buy you the proper things yet, and its not legal in most places, and we'll probably have to wait for a while but-"

"Spit it out already." Romano scowled and let Spain take his hands and hold them tight.

"What I'm trying to say is, Romano, will you marry me?"


End file.
